


nobody can drag me down

by aizensosuke



Category: Bleach
Genre: Banter, Enemies to Lovers, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Gin is a bastard, Hollow Sex, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Rivalry, Rivals to Lovers, Trans Character, Trans Kira Izuru, Trans Male Character, Trust, Vaginal Sex, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 07:17:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18068984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aizensosuke/pseuds/aizensosuke
Summary: kira gets a surprise but maintains the upper hand on abirama.





	nobody can drag me down

Kira Izuru is perhaps through thirty-three percent of his paperwork when his new captain’s hands slam down on the expanse of his desk, startling a yelp out of him and sending him flying back in his chair. The force is almost enough to topple it and him to the floor but he catches himself at the last minute, his heart beating a rapid staccato against the inside of his ribcage as he raises his eyes to Rose’s silently.

“Taichou?” he squeaks out, hating how weak and pitiful his voice sounds.

“You should go home today, Izuru,” he says, musical voice catching Kira off-guard when he parses the meaning of the words. “I can handle things here in the office.”

Frowning, Kira glances down at the stack of paperwork at the corner of his desk, then back up at Rose. “Taichou, my apologies, but you rarely get your own paperwork done—”

“I can do it,” Rose reassures him, walking around the desk, hands gripping Kira’s shoulders and drawing him up from his chair with an unfair quantity of strength, nudging him toward the doorway. “Go home! You deserve a break. You work so hard that people are starting to talk, saying that I work you too hard, and we can’t have that—”

Kira catches the edge of the doorway. “Who’s saying such things? I can always tell them—”

“Nonsense!” Rose sets his foot against the doorframe, using the leverage to push Kira out into the warm spring evening. “Now go home and get some rest. I insist!”

He slams the door shut before Kira can argue with him, a frown tugging at Kira’s lips. After a few moments of staring at the wood, listening to Rose shuffling around in his office, he sighs and turns toward the pathway that leads to the barracks and his personal room resolved that if Rose wants him to rest, he probably should. It was true that he endured many sleepless nights, chased away from the restful quality of sleep he needs by terror that grips tight and hot in his gut, choking the oxygen from his lungs.

All he can see in those dreams are Gin’s face on the other side of the bars.

The memory makes him shudder as he enters the barracks and continues on to his room, fatigue tugging at the corners of his mind. A nap, perhaps, and then maybe Rose would let him return to his duties and finish the paperwork before it could pile up and become a mountain no one could handle, including him. Ichimaru had never been one for work, after all, and now Kira knows it was likely because he was busy plotting to betray them all.

The thought is depressing. When Kira had first joined the Fifth Division beneath Aizen, when Ichimaru was still his lieutenant, he needed someone to confess to. Ichimaru promised to keep it a secret and then stood at his side when he went to Aizen to ask for his assistance in changing his name in an official and legal capacity, something that would go much faster if he had the signature of his captain, willing to vouch that it was necessary for him to have a better quality of life. And still, Ichimaru betrayed him.

Had he thought of him as Kira Izuru even in the final moments that he thought about him?

The thoughts are not productive ones and so Kira puts them out of his mind as he steps into his private rooms, closing the shoji behind him and turning to see a familiar form draped across his futon. It startles him to see anyone at all and he yelps, hand slapping the frame behind him and making the Arrancar jump in answer, a hand flying up to his face.

“Fucking hell, you scared me.” Abirama Redder flops back on the futon, arm draped over his eyes, impossibly right  _ here _ when he should be in Las Noches. “Don’t do that.”

“What are you doing here? How did you even get here?” The Gotei Thirteen had to carefully monitor when the Arrancar who were now allied alongside them used the garganta to come to and from Soul Society; Kira should have heard about it this morning.

Abirama drags his arm away from his eyes, dark brows furrowed. “That’s a way to say hi.”

“Sorry. I just.” Kira tilts his head back, closes his eyes, counts back from ten, and tries again. He is beyond bad at this.  _ How much of myself did I let Ichimaru take with him when he walked out of Soul Society? _ “I’m sorry. It’s nice to see you. I just don’t understand how you were able to surprise me when the Gotei Thirteen monitors the garganta.”

“That’s more like it.” Abirama holds out his arms and Kira surrenders to his own baser instincts. Today has been strange, but there is nothing strange about this. Not anymore.

Kira kneels on the futon and finds himself yanked into Abirama’s arms a moment later, strong hands smoothing up and down his back as he tucks his face in against the Arrancar’s tattooed neck. Perhaps it was wrong of him to grant mercy to an enemy but it was hard to reconcile killing someone who was only doing what he was told when Kira followed every order of the man who walked away from him and never looked back. If they were all meant to be pawns in Aizen’s game, how could he judge someone else accordingly?

“There you are.” Abirama nuzzles into his hair and Kira sighs, happy to be enveloped in the strong arms that had been there for him during one of the worst moments of his life; the truth aftermath of Gin’s death when Kira held Gin’s haori in his hands and wept over it and the life he lost with the captain he adored. “I’ve been missing you so much lately.”

“How did you get into Soul Society without me knowing about it, though?” Kira presses, learning back to look up at him. Realization dawns on him. “Did Rose sneak you in?”

Abirama snorts down at him. “No sneaking involved. You were the only one not told.”

“Rose taichou hurried me out of the office today because he knew you were coming to visit, hmm?” Kira asks, sighing when Abirama only smirks and drags his nose down the side of Kira’s neck. It requires quite a bit of head tilting given his Hollow mask.

“Now you’re starting to get it. He told me you’ve been working yourself to the bone. I can see it.” Abirama’s hands wrap around his waist and squeeze, and Kira shivers. “You’ve lost weight. You’ve got dark circles under your eyes. When was the last time you slept?”

Kira frowns at the assertion. “I was asleep just last night. And I haven’t lost weight—”

“You have.” Abirama’s fingers catch him by the chin and Kira frowns at him. “Take better care of yourself, Zuru. I’m going to show up one day to surprise you and you’ll be in a fucking coma or something. I’ll drag you off to Las Noches to do it myself if you don’t.”

Perhaps Kira is a bit of a hopeless romantic, but being dragged off to Las Noches hardly sounds like a terrible fate. “Only if you promised to leave a note for Rose taichou.”

“I’ll leave a feather. He’ll know what it means.” Abirama shifts, thumb brushing over Kira’s lower lip, drawing a small and shuddering sigh from his mouth. “Do I get a hello kiss?”

They have to be careful of the angle because of his mask but they manage it, Kira tilting his head just enough to kiss him. Like in everything else, Abirama is boisterous and competitive, his lips threatening to devour Kira’s own as he deepens the kiss, tongue sweeping through his mouth and drawing a soft moan from Kira’s throat. The hands on his back slide lower and he squeaks when they grip his ass through the layers of his clothing, fingers kneading the flesh as Abirama sucks Kira’s tongue into his mouth.

“Easy,” he protests, the hands on him softening immediately, sliding lower to grip his thighs, spread them so that he finds himself straddling Abirama’s lap. “You come all the way here to see me and then all you do is maul me for your own amusement.”

“You have no idea how lonely it gets without you around.” Abirama kisses him again, and Kira thinks he might make good on that kidnapping promise at this rate.

He doesn’t realize one hand is moving until it does, until Wabisuke pings to let him know that something is up. When he glances down, he finds Abirama’s fingers tracing a delicate path over the sheath of the zanpakuto, a quiet  _ hello, _ a sincere brush of a touch for the sword that had nearly ended his life. And Wabisuke  _ likes _ the attention, which is just obscene in more ways than one. Kira frowns at his zanpakuto.

“See? You both missed me.” Abirama is careful in removing Wabisuke from his waist, lying him beside Aguila. “They can keep each other company like that.”

“Horrible that you come all this way just to seduce my zanpakuto ever time,” Kira mutters, and he wonders distantly if the other shinigami have suffered similar fates.

In answer, Abirama kisses him again, the lightest brush of lips thus far. “Wabisuke is a piece of your soul, so it’s pretty important that he knows I love him, too,  _ mi cielo. _ ”

The endearment is enough to take Kira’s breath away so that he’s unprepared when the kisses move to his jaw, his throat, his eyes fluttering shut as he lets the sweetness of it all sweep him away. The language of the Arrancar was still almost a complete mystery to him— though he resolved to study it in depth as soon as he got the chance and had finished erasing Ichimaru from the Division— but that term, he knows. Had asked Findorr about it when Abirama first picked it up, wanting to know what it meant.

_ My sky. _ Findorr’s enigmatic smile, a glitter in his eyes.  _ He’s a bird, Kira-chan. Remember? _

“I love it when you go soft for me.” Abirama’s hand moves back to his obi, fingers tracing over the edge of it before he unties it swiftly. “Let me look at you.”

Once, that was easier said than done. Kira still remembers the hesitation in all of his movements when their… Their  _ relationship _ , he supposes, first began. When Abirama found him sitting in Ichimaru’s former bedroom at Las Noches, crying into his haori and asking the shadows of the room how he could have been lied to for so long without realizing it and why he never had the chance to tell Ichimaru to fuck off to his face.

Not that he would have been brave enough to do it, but it was the thought that counted.

Now, though, Kira helps him. Strips out of his kosode and struggles out of his hakama without losing his position in Abirama’s lap. When there’s nothing left but his shitagi, he runs his hands over Abirama’s chest, always left bare, feeling the muscle there, tracing the bold crimson lines of his tattoos. When he was in his Resurreccion, they bled as black as the shadows and served to power him up further, a startling ability.

“You good?” Abirama asks him, and Kira can feel the soft curl of his reiatsu stroking over his skin, as soft as feathers, as light as the wind. So perfectly controlled.

He nods and smiles up at him. He’s seen that Resurrection since then. Had been on his back when Abirama taught him what it was like to fly. “Yes. Feel free to continue.”

“You always worry me when you get all locked up in your head.” Abirama cups his chin and kisses him again, slower, coaxing small noises from his throat. “Stay with me, Zuru.”

“Of course.” Kira curls his fingers around a lock of black hair. “Where else would I go?”

Abirama’s hands remove his shitagi, leaving his entire body nude, and Kira lifts his chin as if in defiance out of habit more than anything else. His body is on the slender side even for a shinigami, skinny enough that no one really looks twice at him even if they don’t know the truth and he’s rarely had to worry about hiding other than the typical layering he has grown used to when it comes to his shihakusho. It’s only when his body is entirely bare, when there are no layers between himself and anyone else, that they see the truth.

“You have lost weight. I knew it.” Abirama frowns at him but Kira kisses the expression away, not willing to deal with the concern right now. Perhaps later.

Always glad that it’s something small and insignificant that comes up at such a moment, something that eases the tension that always gathers in his limbs. Prepared for flight, to leave the situation as quickly as possible, to get away from the pain.

How could it be that an Arrancar was the one who finally brought him a sense of peace?

With Abirama distracted by the kiss, Kira’s fingers steal down to his chest, tracing over the lines of his tattoos once more before edging toward his hakama. When it came to the Arrancar, some of them chose to keep their Hollow holes covered while others still left theirs exposed, and there seemed to be nothing in particular that guided their choices. But Kira knows the truth of them so that he seeks it out now, fingers slipping just beneath the fabric to skate along the upper curve before Abirama catches him by the wrist.

“Wicked little thing, aren’t you?” The question is a tease and Abirama drags Kira’s hand up to his lips, rasping a kiss against his palm. “You want it just as bad as I do.”

“Of course. What else?” Kira twists his hand so he can cradle Abirama’s jaw, tracing the thin trail of crimson on his chin, the broader swathe higher up on his jaw that cuts against his cheek. When he traces it up to the Hollow mask, Abirama shudders.

Arrancar have all sorts of sensitive places if one only knows where to look for them.

Kira shifts up on his knees so he can reach better, smoothing both hands over the wicked white curvive of Abirama’s beak just to hear the small, helpless little noise of pleasure that leaves his throat at the touch.  _ Birds have sensitive beaks, _ Kuchiki Byakuya once told him when Kira asked him while he was petting one of the many colorful avians that had come into his garden, drawn to him by some invisible force Kira does not understand.  _ Scratching their beaks is pleasant to them. Would you like to try, Kira fukutaichou? _

He imagines Byakuya would quietly end his own life if he knew what Kira was doing now.

“Enjoying that?” he teases, pressing a kiss to the beak. “It sounds like you are.”

In answer, Abirama tilts his head toward the press of Kira’s lips. “Don’t stop that.”

“Of course not.” Kira smiles against the mask, strokes his fingers over the bone, the gleaming white so smooth against his lips, cooler than Abirama’s warm skin.

There had been talk in the barracks, Kira knows, of if the Hollow masks felt anything, if the Hollow holes felt anything. Having Arrancar in constant contact meant that there were bets taken, brave soldiers thinking they could seduce an Arrancar for the night and get some of their questions answered. Kira has the answers for all of them, trails soft kisses down to the point of the beak, not quite sharp enough to cut. When he flicks his tongue over the peak, though, Abirama shivers beneath him, calm and pliant.

His fingers dance along the top of the mask, slipping into the slot in the bone, rubbing the inside of it and drawing a low moan from Abirama’s throat. “What a pleasant change.”

“Fuck, Izuru.” Abirama’s eyes are closed, his color high against the red of his tattoos, flushed beneath the dark tan of his skin. “Don’t stop that. Don’t fucking stop that.”

“I like when you’re soft for me. It makes me feel so strong.” This time, Kira curls his tongue against the point of the beak and then  _ sucks _ until Abirama writhes beneath him.

A Hollow mask, when removed, can cause intense pain and even death and so most Arrancar refuse to let anyone touch their masks. Kira understands this, and thus he understands just how much Abirama trusts him to let him touch it with his mouth, with both hands, fingers seeking out the openings, perfect place to grip and rip if he wanted to. Instead, he strokes the soft inner part of the mask and laves it with his tongue just to hear Abirama whine and feel him buck and struggle beneath him. Finally one of his hands slips between Kira’s thighs, fingers prying his folds apart to stroke over his clit.

_ An eye for an eye. _ Kira moans; the sound reverberates across Abirama’s mask.

“Open me up,” he instructs, spreading his thighs a little wider. “I can ride you like this.”

Abirama snorts up at him. “You’re in the worst shape you’ve ever been in and you want—”

Kira presses a wet kiss to the beak, and he quiets. “Yes, I do. Put your fingers in me.”

There is no argument, then, not when he demands it. Abirama’s breath curls warm and faint against his throat and he does as asked, tracing a finger down to Kira’s entrance, slipping it inside on the slickness gathering there. The other hand slides up to cup Kira’s breast, thumb stroking over the nipple until Kira’s breathing grows heavier, thighs shifting restlessly as he turns his attention back to the Hollow mask once more.

Most assumed the Arrancar were violent, but they could be gentle. Abirama is now, stretching Kira open with tender care, shivering and moaning as Kira kisses and licks his mask. The shape of it is so simple and yet so beautiful and Kira leaves no part of it untouched just as Abirama touches him, teasing his nipples with one hand, fingering him with the other. His thumb strokes against Kira’s clit, the wetness flowing more easily.

“Does it feel good?” Kira teases him, kissing down to the curve of the fragment against his cheekbone, tongue testing the delicate ridges there. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Hell no.” Abirama’s eyes are squeezed shut, his breathing labored. “Please don’t stop.”

_ Please. _ Kira giggles softly, rolls his hips down and then moans when Abirama slips another finger inside of him, pressing them both forward against the most sensitive spot inside of him.  _ Retribution. _ But Kira doesn’t let up, kissing the mask, following the curve of it back up to the beak itself while Abirama mercilessly massages that small place. It’s embarrassing how wet Kira becomes and how quickly he does, but he can hear the soft wet sucking noises when Abirama slides his fingers out and thrusts them back in.

It’s a tender rhythm, the way Kira rolls his hips down to take those fingers deeper inside of him while Abirama rubs along his inner walls, thumbs over his clit, and otherwise tries to remain as still as possible to encourage Kira to keep touching his mask. Not that Kira minds at all; he loves the way it feels against his lips, the shape of it, the smoothness. And he loves nothing more than the way Abirama responds to his touch: moaning, shuddering, fucking Kira more fervently with his fingers until Kira’s thighs quiver.

“I can smell you,” he rasps out and Kira moans against his mask, kissing up to one of the openings in it, flicking his tongue inside of it. “I can smell how wet you are, Izuru.”

Kira exhales in a wheeze, rutting down against Abirama’s fingers. “Well, it’s your fault.”

“I’m glad.” The hand on his chest slips down and around, groping his ass again. “That your body responds to me like this. You’re opened up now. Let me fuck you.”

“You’re going to have to get your hakama off and I’m not moving— Oh.” Because as soon as Kira says that, Abirama just gathers up a handful of fabric and  _ rips  _ it. “I guess that… Oh.”

Abirama laughs softly but Kira ignores that, fingers dragging down his abdomen to press into the bared darkness of his Hollow hole now that it’s visible. The Arrancar doesn’t expect this, laugh cutting off into a huffing gasp while Kira presses two fingers inside, rubbing along the sensitive inside of it until Abirama is shaking again. So many weaknesses on such a powerful man and all of them have him shaking in Kira’s grip just like this. It’s gratifying, Kira unable to bite down on a smile while he riles Abirama up.

“Trying to kill me?” Abirama presses a kiss to Kira’s throat. “Regretting the choice to let me live? ‘Cause you’re gonna destroy me if you keep this up.”

Kira sucks the tip of his beak again and Abirama spasms beneath him. Only then does Kira slip his fingers free of the Hollow hole, wrapping them around Abirama’s cock. They don’t quite meet around the circumference. “Of course not. I’d never regret that.”

“You’re too good for me.” Abirama buries his face in Kira’s throat, bucking up into the loose curl of his fist. There’s already pre-come dribbling down his cock, making it a wet stroke.

_ But you’re good  _ for _ me, _ Kira thinks, shifting his hips forward, rubbing the head of Abirama’s cock against his slit. It’s almost pitiful how ready his body is for this but he still gives himself a shadow of a tease, rutting himself against Abirama’s shaft and the curl of his own fingers before lifting his hips and sliding down. He keeps his hand at the base until his own labia brush against it, only moving it so he can bottom out.

It’s almost too much. It usually is when it’s like this, with Kira on top, but Abirama wraps his arms around Kira and kisses his throat, fingers soothing the muscles in his hips and thighs so that he relaxes against him. He’s still tight around him but not unbearably so and it makes his eyes roll back in his head a little as he takes in the full stretch.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” Abirama leans back to look up at him, his deep golden eyes almost glittering in the half-darkness of Kira’s bedroom. “Can’t believe I ended up pair bonded with a shinigami but  _ fuck _ if I’m ever gonna deserve you.”

Kira smiles down at him, rests a tentative hand on his shoulder. “You really think that?”

“Yeah. Been thinking that since you still had the heart in you to cry over some dead bastard who spit on you on his way out.” Abirama rubs a hand up his back, as if sensing that his words might be upsetting and trying to soften the blow.

Instead, Kira kisses him. His hands slide behind the mask to knot in Abirama’s soft black hair, soft as the down on a baby chick. It’s true; he had cried for Ichimaru, cried for him and their lapsed bond and how everything had been a lie constructed to keep him blind until it was too late to do anything to stop him. How every single moment since day one was an elaborate ruse, that Ichimaru never cared about him as a person and probably looked down at him for believing any part of him deserved to be respected and followed.

He had been there when Kira needed him the most and probably used that to wind Kira tighter to him, sowing the seeds for Kira to follow him to the Third.

And yet, Kira had cried for him. Cried into his haori until he had nothing left.

“I’m going to move now.” He presses both hands to Abirama’s shoulders, shimmies his hips and groans at how that feels. “Are you going to help me or just lie here?”

Abirama cups his hips and helps him wriggle up and back own, sliding Kira up and down on his cock, the friction a sweet rub that makes Kira’s toes curl. “I’ve got you,  _ mi cielo. _ ”

The strength in his arms means that Abirama can pretty much bounce Kira up and down without any of his assistance and so Kira ends up letting him, hands wandering over his tattoos as he leans in to kiss him again, properly this time and on the mouth. Their tongues curl against and around each other and he moans softly into the kiss, squirming atop him. With just fingers, Kira is tight, and Abirama’s cock rubs up inside of him in the most intense way possible. The slight curve in his shaft ensures that the way he moves against the spot just inside of him has Kira gasping and rocking his hips for more.

“You feel like heaven around me. Like you were made just for me.” Abirama catches Kira’s lip between his teeth and pulls it, letting it snap back. “How’re you doing, Zuru?”

“Good.” Kira has to gulp in air, his eyes squeezing shut as he focuses on the sensation inside of him, the friction, the rhythm, the slick wet sounds. “Harder. I can go harder.”

But Abirama shakes his head. “This is as hard as I want to go with you right now.”

Kira lets it go because he knows he’s not going to win this time and because it’s nice just the way it is, the slow and gentle rhythm of their bodies, Abirama’s hands on his hips, their mouths brushing together in slow, wet kisses. Kira grows bold and moves back to his mask, tongue stroking the edges of it down to the point where he sucks again. Abirama’s hips give a small jerk, grinding himself inside, and Kira moans at the sensation.

He’s not used to feeling cherished when it comes to sex and thinks that it’s definitely noteworthy that the first partner to make him feel special during the act was someone he was once meant to kill. It probably says too much about the people Kira has allowed into his life, and that means he has to work harder to keep all of them at bay and only let those in who deserve to be close to him. He’s still learning. Maybe Abirama can teach him.

“Stay with me.” Abirama kisses him again, as if sensing that he’s wandering off. “Stay right here with me. I want to see the look on your face when you come on me.”

“Do I make pretty faces for you?” Kira asks, and gods, he can feel himself  _ rippling _ around Abirama’s cock, his own words affecting him far too much. “Do you like to watch me?”

The smirk he gets in response seems almost dangerous, a sharp contrast to the way Abirama rubs a hand up and down his side. “There’s no prettier sight in the world.”

When the rhythm shifts just slightly, Kira feels it. Abirama holds his hips just aloft, just up enough that he can arch his own, thrust up into him, driving in deep enough that it cuts Kira’s moans off into desperate breathy sounds. His eyes roll back in his head, his mouth hanging open around little whines. It’s… Too much of a turn-on, he thinks, to be manhandled in such a way. To just be held here while Abirama fucks him like this.

“You’re close.” Abirama  _ grinds _ and it’s filthy and Kira muffles a groan against his beak, unable to help himself, though he smiles just a bit when Abirama’s rhythm is thrown off by the vibrations. “I can feel the way you’re tightening up around me.”

“That so?” Kira can feel it, too, how he feels tighter, how the rub is more insistent, warmth bubbling beneath his skin, centering low in his gut. Every thrust is  _ more _ like this, leaving him trembling as he digs his fingers into Abirama’s shoulders.

Abirama smirks up at him, and there’s a circular motion to the way he rolls his hips, dragging his cock out so slowly so that Kira is forced to feel every centimeter on the way out. And then he snaps his hips, bottoming out in a second, knocking the breath from Kira’s lungs. The force of it makes his legs twitch and tremble, the muscles in his thighs all over the place while he tries to gulp in as much oxygen as his lungs can hold.

He still manages to get one of his hands up, fingers slipping into one of the wider holes at the top of the mask, curling inside of it and through Abirama’s hair to grip the bone. It’s a risk but Abirama’s hips only jolt up against his harder and Kira grins, hooks his fingers in the other hole and leans down to kiss him, holding him in place by the mask. Having this much trust put in him by another person is astounding, tearing at the inside of his ribs until his heart is in aching ribbons that knot themselves together into a complicated bow.

The orgasm rolls over him in a hot wash of sensation and his hand tightens on the mask, the pressure enough to have Abirama jerking up against him with a loud groan as he comes.

When Kira glances down to where their bodies are joined, he’s a touch embarrassed. There’s a slick wetness glistening on Abirama’s skin and in his pubic hair, proof that Kira’s arousal was definitely through the roof this go around. He stretches his hand down to touch where their bodies are joined just the same, flushing too, too hot as he slips off of him. The emptiness is sudden and a bit jarring but relieving just the same.

His fingers drag over the mask and Abirama shivers, catching his hand, drawing it away and pressing soft, reverent kisses to his fingers. “Don’t do that. I’m still sensitive.”

“All right.” Kira frees his hand, traces it over the tattoos on his chest. “How long are you staying this time around? I know they don’t like any of you to be here very long.”

Abirama peeks up at him from under his mask, through his lashes. “There are no restrictions on how long you can stay in Las Noches. No one on our side ever came up with any, so officially it isn’t a thing. You could, if you wanted, stay for days.”

Which means he doesn’t have long here. Kira sighs softly, tracing the edge of a tattoo with his nail. “I don’t know that I can just shirk my duties here as a lieutenant.”

“They accused you of being in on the plot and then made you come get his fucking haori to bring back to them after you very nearly died by Aizen’s hand.” There is vitriol in Abirama’s voice and Kira smiles sadly at the sound of it;  _ he cares so much. _ “Why not take a break? Why not come visit with us? We can lie and say we’re discussing some kind of military alliance. Or not lie at all. We don’t have to give them a reason.”

“Your queen won’t demand to know why a shinigami has an extended stay with you?” Kira asks, raising an eyebrow at him. Halibel hardly seems like the type.

In answer, Abirama smiles up at him. “We’re pair bonded, Kira. She won’t even need to ask anything. She’s going to know why you’ve come to visit.”

Rushing off to visit would be a harsh mistake and Kira knows this, knows that his standing is finally back in place, that his working relationship with Rose is excellent, and that plenty people respect him now for everything he did in the war. Enough, he thinks, to balance out the fact that it is public knowledge he has an Arrancar for a lover. People do look down on that quite a lot, and it comes up fairly often.

“Please,” Abirama murmurs, tone soft and pleading. “I want to spend time with you.”

Just like that, Kira breaks. “Perhaps just a few days. Wabisuke? Do you think we should?”

His zanpakuto chimes  _ hard _ and Kira laughs, leaning in to kiss his Arrancar on the lips.

“That settles it, then,” he says, and Abirama’s eyes flare as bright as the sun tucked down beneath the horizon. “Just let me rest and then I’ll pack to go.”

After all, Rose said he could handle the paperwork for a bit.

**Author's Note:**

> remember when i said i was making trans byakuya a common tag? that goes double for trans kira.
> 
> also this is another one of those shinigami/arrancar rare pairs i was talking about.


End file.
